


Noah Stark

by supergreak



Category: Glee, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Amiable Break Up, Avengers Tower, Awesome Pepper Potts, Gen, Hulk Talks, Jossed, Klaine Break-Up, M/M, Minor Bruce Banner/Tony Stark, Musicals, Not Blaine or Klaine Friendly, Parent Tony Stark, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Protective Hulk, Unrealistic Learning Curves, Unrealistic Timing of Everything, unabashed crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supergreak/pseuds/supergreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah Puckerman is, actually, Tony Stark's kid.  </p><p>This is not an AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To my unfortunate offspring

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is what I keep writing instead of my kurt_ot3 big bang, but whatever. 
> 
> IT FIXES EVERYTHING.
> 
> (compliant through the avengers and the end of Glee S3)
> 
> Also, more tags/characters/relationships added as I get to them.
> 
> Not Mrs. Puckerman friendly, but she's only in the first chapter. Just, you know, fair warning.

Puck walked into the apartment and dropped his diploma on the counter, shrugging out of the gown and tossing the cap at his sister before starting to chop vegetables for dinner while the squirt did her homework. Hannah quickly donned the hat, blowing on the tassel whenever she got stuck and/or tired of dividing fractions. 

Mom walked in, right as the chicken was coming out of the oven. She spotted the gown draped around Hannah's shoulders and looked up at Puck in shock. "You  _graduated?_ That was  _today?_ Is there a reason you didn't see fit to invite me?"

Puck paused, looked up, raised an eyebrow. "You never came to a single event at my high school, Ma. Not one football game, parent-teacher conference, glee competition, not even when we won Nationals. Why would I think you'd come to graduation? The date's been on the calendar for a month, even when I didn't think I  _was_ graduating. You just...never cared to ask." He looked back down at the salad shooter and sent another carrot through, the noise giving Hannah cover to grab her homework folder and retreat to her room before Ma snapped.

"You! You think you can talk to me, your Mother, like that?  You are so- so _horrible!_ Thank goodness you're leaving now, before you poison your sister with that attitude. Don't tell your own mother when you graduate high school. Hmmph." She crossed her arms.

"Can't leave right away, Ma. Not now. Don't have the money." Puck shrugged, tossing a cup of raisins into the bowl.

"I thought you had some saved? From your-" She wrinkled her nose, "little...business."

Puck grabbed the tray of ice from the freezer and slammed it shut. "I gave all of it to Dad, when he came around looking for money last month. I wanted him out of our fucking lives."

Ma sat down with a sigh. "Why would you  _do_ that, Noah? He's not even- I mean- You should have kept it."

"He's not even  _what?_ "

She looked up at him, laughed bleakly. "He's not even your father, dumbass. Why do you  _think_ he hated you so much? Left as soon as you were too big to hit? Your stupid face got more like  _his_ every day, and the bastard hated that, hated the reminder."

Puck had to brace himself on the kitchen counter. "More like  _whose?_ " 

Ma looked up at him through hooded eyes. "More like Tony's." She sighed, heavy, pushed her chair back as she stood. Walked over to the kitchen. Took out the knife drawer, set it on the counter, reached into the hole. 

Pulled out an envelope, handed it to Puck. 

Walked out of the room without a second glance, leaving Noah Puckerman standing shock-still in the kitchen, staring at the  **STARK INDUSTRIES** envelope in his hands.

***

He shook the trance off, setting the envelope on top of the coffee maker in favor of getting the food on the table, setting it for two. Babydaddy drama could wait. He called in Hannah and smiled as she blessed the food (he may be a bad Jew, but Hannah didn't really have anything else to rely on, and she actually  _liked_ praying, so Puck wasn't about to discourage that.)

Later, after the dishes were washed and Hannah's homework was finished, checked, and safely in her backpack and she was tucked in, Puck gathered up his things and retreated to his room. He dropped his backpack on his desk (he'd burn the homework later, but maybepossibly save that Geography test), hung up his robes(borrowed from Artie's second cousin, who graduated three years ago), and sat down on his bed. The envelope in his hands weighed more than any amount of ink and paper could account for. He'd beat himself up for  _so long_ over being just like his father, only to find out, Danny Puckerman wasn't his dad, after all. He didn't have any genetic predisposition to loserhood. Unless, of course, his bio-dad was a loser, too.

He looked back down.  **STARK INDUSTRIES.** Yeah, probably not. Even if it was the fucking  _janitor_ for Stark, Tony Stark didn't hire idiots, or losers, ever. Probably wanted people who could think on their feet in case of flying alien worms, and not be in the way. They'd  _all_ seen those pictures from New York.

He ran a finger under the flap, pulling out a folded piece of stationery.

Like, crisp, heavy, official stuff.

  
  


_To My Unfortunate Offspring,_

It read.

Puck squinted at the fine print, reluctantly went to his desk, grabbed his reading glasses (shut up) and picked the letter back up.

  
  


_To My Unfortunate Offspring,_

If you're reading this, I feel sorry for you, because your parents must truly suck to want me for a replacement. Seriously, I am  _not_ dad material. And your mom obviously knew that, because she didn't want me in your life. That's cool, I get it, teen dad not exactly attractive, especially to a married woman. And to be perfectly honest, my lifestyle doesn't exactly leave time for changing diapers, or kissing boo-boos. 

If you found out as a kid, about me, and want a father figure, someone to color with you and dry your tears and stuff, don't look at me. Go find your nearest phone book, look up  _Adoption, comma, gay_ and talk to one of those thousands of couples that can't have kids the bio-way. I'm sure they'd love to have a kid as brilliant as you.

And you  _are_ brilliant, because no kid of mine would be stupid. It's not  _all_ nurture, though decent schools probably help a lot. 

The point is, I'm not gonna be your daddy. You don't  _want_ me to be your daddy. I don't have a paternal bone in my body. But no kid of mine is going to starve, or turn to prostitution or drugs or something because they're desperate and/or homeless, or live in an abusive house. So if you're in trouble, like  _real_ trouble, not mom-won't-buy-me-the-latest-videogame or grounded-again trouble, come see me. We'll work something out. Even if you're already an adult. Not having to deal with a kid works for me.

If, on the other hand, you found out 'cause you're a nosy little brat but otherwise happy, congratulations, you take after me. Put that mischievous side to good use and learn everything you can in school, invent something brilliant, and be my biggest competition in business. Give your folks exactly the right amount of trouble, and good luck in life.

Best wishes,

_Tony Stark_

  
  


Tony Stark  
STARK INDUSTRIES  
(724) 555-3846  
  
  


  
  


Holy crap. 

Not a janitor, then.

 


	2. Defying Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans, travel, and Hulk makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a Klaine-friendly fic. I don't dwell on it past this chapter, but I give fair warning.

Holy crap. 

Not a janitor, then.

He flopped back onto his bed.

Well, this would get him out of Ohio, at least, and maybe Stark could get him a job somewhere in the company, or at least give him a place to crash in New York until he could figure something out. Ma didn't want him to stay. She'd been itching for him to move out ever since the whole Beth thing, sophomore year. Now that he was 18, and out of high school...yeah, he'd better pack his bags.

He snorted. You know who could have used a mysterious extra parent living in New York? Kurt Hummel, kid who got screwed by a combination of incompetent guidance counselors and stupid admissions people. If Kurt were in New York, he'd audition for everything and get experience and probably beat Rachel onto Broadway. Puck didn't even have a plan.

Better not get Kurt's hopes up, though, until he called  _Tony Fucking Stark._ How was this his life?

He sat back up, grabbed the letter, and punched the number into his cell. It rang once before a smooth voice came on. "Mr. Stark is unavailable, is there something I can assist you with?"

Puck blinked, startled. Most people's answering machines didn't, you know, talk back. "Yeah, um, I've got this letter that says I'm Mr. Stark's kid, and to 'drop by' if I ever need any help, but I'm in bumfuck Ohio, oh, shit, sorry, I'm stuck in  _Lima,_ Ohio, and don't really have a way to get to New York."

The British voice that really sounded like a butler stereotype came back. "Your name is Noah Puckerman, correct? Email address rock underscore god sixty nine at g-mail dot com?"

Puck blinked in shock.  _Freaky_ . "Yeah. Um, yes, that's correct."

"You are currently unemployed. Do you have familial obligations which prevent you from travelling in the next week?"

Puck shrugged. Stark probably kept files on people, or something. He decided just to roll with the wicked-smart computer talking to him. "Nope, I'm free and clear."

"Will you be travelling with a companion?" 

Puck closed his eyes. Yeah, Kurt'd be fine with him being presumptuous, if it got him to New York. "Yes. Kurt Hummel."

"Very well. You're flying out tomorrow night; the tickets are in your inbox. There will be a cab waiting at the airport for you."

"Thanks?" Puck said, but the line was already dead. He blinked away his shock and fumbled for Kurt's number. "Hey, bro, you free tomorrow night to help me out with something?"

***

Kurt set the pint down to pick up his "Kick Ass" playing cell phone. He tucked it against his ear before picking up his pillow to hug, leaning against the headboard. "If you need help hiding a body, I'm not the best friend to call, Noah."

Puck laughed. "Nah, nothing like that. I take it you've considered taking out Berry?"

" _And_ Finn. Oh, the angst, I fail at life, I think I'll join the army."

"Long story, I got tickets for you and I to fly to New York tomorrow night and someplace to stay once we're there. I'll explain when you get here. My place, tomorrow at noon. Keep within the luggage limits or pay your own overages, 'kay?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Kurt rolled his eyes. "This is rather tasteless for a prank, Noah."

"Nope. Not joking."

"You're going to tell me  _everything,_ but, oh, my gaga, I need to pack!" Kurt got out of bed, looked down at himself. "And shower. Holy crap. "Okay, see you tomorrow, Puck." He hung up and glanced around the room. He had  _so_ much to do, but first- He started to sing, softly, picking out a clean pair of jeans.  _"I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair."_

  
  


Kurt pulled up at 11:59, P!nk blasting on the Nav's speakers. Puck stashed his duffel and backpack in the backseat before climbing in on the passenger side. Kurt paused the music. "Spill." He demanded as he started driving.

Puck fastened his seatbelt. "Turns out my loser-dad isn't my dad. Tony freaking Stark  _is_ , aparently; Mom gave me a letter from him, on the letterhead and everything. So this is on my bio-dad's dime. I figured, who else could use a free trip to New York?"

"Not Rachel?"

Puck snorted. "Like poor little rich girl needs any more favors from the world? She'd drive me crazy if we ever tried to travel together, and her dads could afford that train ticket and hotel just fine. You, on the other hand? You're chill." He looked over at Kurt, who was dressed in an outfit that said  _Over You and Fabulously Hot_ . "And I figured you could use the distraction."

Kurt's eyes flicked his direction before turning back to the road. "Who told you?"

"Hair Gel whined to Rory, who told Sam, who told Mike and me last night when we were playing Halo. Details got jumbled, though."

Kurt sighed. "He said that not getting into NYADA was a good thing, because I could be close to him forever and wouldn't have to deal with the  _temptation_ of having other options in New York. Because getting my lifelong hopes and dreams dashed are less important than his insecurities.  When I suggested either a New York community college for a year, or getting a job there to pay the rent between auditions, he said that I wouldn't make it in New York, and I should invest the next year in our relationship instead."

Puck blinked. "Okay, so he's possesive and controlling and he thought  _you_ were going to cheat? Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I may have exchanged a few flirtatious texts with a boy I met at  _Between the Sheets._ Even though Chandler is like Captain Jack-"

"Harkness or Sparrow?"

"Does it really matter?" Kurt smirked.

Puck laughed. "Guess not."

"Yeah, so he's a horrible flirt, but doesn't mean anything by it. And, well, you  _saw_ some of those texts. Pick up lines, sure, but they were so _corny!_ I bet you get steamier things from Santana even now."

"True. So, you dumped the selfish douche?"

"I said we needed to take a break, reevaluate our relationship, if he thinks my entire career should take a back burner to it. He...didn't take kindly to that, said all kinds of horrible things, and I think it's pretty much 1000% over. For me, at least. He's probably going to do an Edward Cullen in a few months.  _I can't be with you but you can't be with anyone else!"_

Puck snorted. Those months of dating Lauren totally ruined vampires for him, forever. "Uh, I guess that explains the P!nk?"

"Precisely. You mind...?" He leaned forward, glancing at Puck, who nodded, so Kurt pressed Play again. It was something else, watching Kurt belt out the angry chick songs (seriously, this entire album was one giant breakup song). 

_This used to be a fun house  
but now it's full of evil clowns  
It's time to start the countdown  
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down  
I'm gonna burn it down_

  
  


They got through both airports easily enough, but once they were in the cab, they noticed that parts of the city were on fire. Some fires were getting extinguished, some were clearly being left to burn themselves out, some sidewalk sections were charred black, smoke marks up the walls. When asked, the cab driver just said, "Oh you know, invading army of evil, all that. Today's was these stupid little doom robots that were more annoying than anything, but the news says the Avengers are taking care of it. Life goes on, yeah? This is New York, kiddies, if aliens and supervillains surprise you, you picked the wrong city to visit."

Despite the continued clean-up efforts, they got to Stark Tower without any delays. The cab driver grinned back at them. "Guess you're used to the crazy stuff, yeah? Stay safe." And then he pulled away.

Puck looked over at him, and Kurt grinned back before they half-ran for the grand doors.

The artificial intelligence butler in the walls gave them directions to a pair of simple rooms connected via bathroom, and after the travel and hauling suitcases, Puck opted to take a nap, fully clothed, on top of the blankets. Kurt wanted to explore the tower, instead- JARVIS was kind enough to give him directions around the labyrinth of corridors when he asked politely, and Kurt loved hearing the British accent. Even when he wasn't lost. 

  


He'd found his way to the roof, staring out at the city, when he saw a blur of green and spun around. The Hulk (!!!!) was standing behind him. Kurt looked up, and up more, and smiled, because the Hulk (!!!!) just looked confused. "Well hello there, big guy! What are you up to?"  _Assess the situation, react calmly, move slowly._

The Hulk (!!!!) sighed, which blew all Kurt's hair out of its careful coif, and shrugged, and...was that a  _pout?_ "Hulk smash robots. Hulk smash  _lots_ of robots. Nothing left to smash, now."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "So, you're bored, then? Nothing to do?"

The Hulk sighed again, and plopped down on the metal roof. Which, you know, kind of dented it. "Cap says, No More Smashing Today, Hulk. Cap is no fun."

Kurt smiled cautiously and sat down across from the Hulk, crossing his legs. "Well, when  _I'm_ bored, I like to tell stories. Would you like to hear one?"

Hulk made a rumbling sound in his throat, and Kurt held his breath, but then the Hulk nodded.   


Taking a deep breath, he started. "Once upon a time in the land of Oz, there was a girl, with green skin and dark hair. Some people were mean to her, because she didn't look like them, and some people were scared of her, because nobody else in Oz had green skin. Then one day..."


	3. Family, Friends, and Finding Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends, new opportunities, public relations, the Hulk wants a musical number, taking chances, and Agent Coulson knows talent when he sees it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to kenna-girl and pondamypond for betaing! You guys are awesome :)
> 
> If it's been a while...I've added some new tags. Like a ton of them. Also this didn't start making any logical sense in the last year and a half. It's still pure crack.  
> But then, when do I ever write something that _isn't_ crack?

Tony landed on the roof, armor coming off as he walked down the ramp.  Then he saw the Hulk sitting on the lower balcony, and froze.  "JARVIS?  Should I leave the suit on?"

"No, sir, the situation is under control."  The AI responded.  "You have two guests, one asleep and one conversing with the Hulk.  You may want to read the files I sent while you were combatting Doctor Doom."

Tony rolled his eyes as he neared the door.  "Give me the Reader's Digest."

"The sleeping one is your son, sir."

Tony stopped cold, hand on the door handle, before laughing.  "The way my day's going, it figures.  Who's the other one?"

"Moral support."

"And his moral support is friends with Bruce's green rage monster?"

"Apparently so.  He's been summarizing the Broadway Musical _Wicked,_ including several of the musical numbers."

Shrugging and chuckling, Tony pushed the door open.  The first thing he noticed was the snoring.  An entire lumber company's worth of sawing logs.  When he rounded the corner, _then_ he actually _saw_ the Jolly Green Giant, curled up with his head in the lap of a fashionably dressed teenager.  

Tony squinted at him suspiciously.   _Note to self: ask JARVIS to make sure this kid is in no way related to Loki.  Those cheekbones are a little close for comfort.  Can Thor tell that kind of thing?_  He cleared his throat and strode into the room.  "Hey there, kid, the big guy isn't crushing you, is he?  No?  Great, awesome.  JARVIS, can you get the standard non-disclosure..."  A screen lit up by the counter, and he picked it up and handed it to the kid.  "Here, read this 'till he wakes up.  I'm off to find...what's the other kid's name?"  He headed for the elevator.

Jarvis answered, tone clearly amused.  "Noah Puckerman, sir.  His friend calls him Puck, and he's in one of the small guest rooms."

Tony glanced back at the kid.  "Boyfriend?"

"Their interactions don't seem to indicate so, sir."

"Basic bio?"

"It would be best if you met the young man before prejudging him, sir."

He rolled his eyes at the camera as the elevator doors closed.  "Pepper's been talking to you, hasn't she?"

"Always, sir."

The elevator smoothly stopped and opened, and Tony exited.  He turned the corner towards the first of the guest rooms, and walked smack into somebody.  He stepped back, rubbing his forehead.  "Ow, damn, that hurt."

"Sorry!  Shit, ouch."  Tony looked up.  Between the ragged, torn jeans (and not the stylish tears, either) and the mohawk, there was a faded AC/DC t-shirt.  

The exact same AC/DC shirt that _he_ was wearing.  "Well, at least you've got decent taste in music."  

Mohawk's eyes rose, pausing at chest-level.  Well, the arc-reactor _was_ pretty glow-y, Tony couldn't exactly blame him for giving it a second glance.  " _You'_ re Tony Stark?"  He asked.

Tony snorted.  "Not what you were expecting?  That's okay, I get that a lot.  Come on, questions while you walk.  We need to check on your friend- he's apparently the Hulk's new BFF, I've got repairs to make to the suit, and then I've got a Doombot to take apart.  You want to take apart a robot?"

The kid was still staring at him incredulously when they got into the elevator.  "I've never taken a robot apart before.  Only did electronics shop at school 'cause it was an easy A."

"That's okay, you'll learn fast.  So what are you into, then?  Physics?  Chemistry?  Microbiology?  'Cause if you are, you might like what Banner and I are working on in R&D Three."  

The doors slid open as Puck snorted.  "I- uh-"

The other kid danced up.  "Hello again, busy person who I assume is Tony Stark.  I've signed your little waiver, not that anyone would believe me if I told them."  He set the tablet, still showing the neat e-signature: Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, down on the table, and made a twirling gesture towards the sleeping scientist behind him, last-season designer jacket draped over his crotch.  "He de-green-ified shortly after you left, and I couldn't find any blankets.  If he has a habit of doing this, you might want to stash those in rooms like this."

 _Gutsy kid.  I like it._  "Great.  Kurt, nice to meet you, and...what's your name, kid?"

Puck took a ragged breath before opening his eyes.  "Noah.  I- just-   _shit."_  He squeezed them shut again.  "Yeah, call me Noah."

"Okay, then.  You like the room okay?  Bed's comfortable and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks.  For, you know, letting me sleep here.  Or whatever."  

The kid had one of those nervous/grateful/threesecondsfromcrying looks on his faces, and Tony was _not_ prepared for crying kids.  Not even teenagers.  "Really, it's just a bed."

From the look Hummel shot him, Tony could tell it _wasn't_ just a bed, but before either kid had a chance to respond, JARVIS interrupted.  "Sir, Miss Potts is on the line, regarding the board of directors."

"Ahh, crap."  Tony turned to his kid (holy shit, his _kid!)_ and shrugged apologetically.  "Hey, I've got to take this, but I'll show you the labs in the morning, okay?  We're working on a new polymer, get that guy some pants that'll actually stay on.  You in?"

Noah laughed.  "Sure, why not."  

"Great, awesome."  He picked up his phone off the table and prayed for mercy.  "Darling sweet love of my life..."

"That line didn't work even when we were dating, Tony Stark."  Tony winced at Pepper's tone.  "Feel like explaining that mess out there?"

By the time he placated the board of directors, and more importantly, appeased Pepper by taking her out to a nice 'sorry-we-destroyed-so-much-SI-property-saving-the-world-dinner', it was beyond late.   Tony?  Well, he’d completely forgotten that there was a teenager with his DNA in the tower by the time he burrowed into the pillow and fell asleep.

 

 

Phil sighed at his constantly-multiplying mountain of paperwork and picked up his ringing phone.  “Coulson.”

“Hey, you won’t believe this.  Hang on a second while I get Nata-”

“Romanoff.”

Clint continued.  “-sha on conference.  Okay, so I followed the Hulk back to the tower, SOP, make sure he stayed on track.”

“Following procedure, Barton?”  Phil smiled.

“I know how it gets you, sir.  That, and properly filed paperwork.”

Natasha snorted, but Clint ignored her.  “Two teenage boys showed up at the tower while we were out.  One is apparently Tony’s kid, mohawk and all, and they have plans for Doing Science now.”  

Phil groaned.  The _paperwork._

“Fantastic, another Stark in the world.”  Agent Romanoff said, clearly amused.

“Oh, and it gets better.  The other kid, Kurt, he told Hulk a story and made him fall asleep before Tony even got back.  Cool as a cucumber.  Doesn’t even blink at the big guy, or the NDAs, or bitching out Tony for not keeping a stash of blankets for Jolly Green to use.”

Natasha laughed.  “Are we allowed to recruit him, Coulson?  Is he old enough?”

He considered it.  “I’ll have to meet the young man in question, but if he’s amenable to training and the right personality for SHIELD - not everyone is - then yes, someone who can stand up to Stark and for all practical purposes tame the Hulk could be very useful.  Romanoff, standard assessment of him?  Barton...just keep Stark and Stark Junior from destroying Manhattan.”

They signed off and Agent Coulson rubbed his forehead.  Yes, yes, this could be a good thing for Tony and he wasn’t one to begrudge someone their family.  And the other teenager sounded promising.  But  good _Lord_ , Tony Stark reproduced.  Had reproduced.  Tony Stark had a child, who was now a teenager.  Who was here, in New York.  Hello, gray hair.   

Coulson took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and pulled 153-D, 14-B, and the 79-L Addendum out of his desk.  This was going to be a long week.

 

Bruce woke up, not with his usual pounding headache but with an unfamiliar tune stuck in his head.  He hiked up the fancy looking jacket around his waist, avoiding any people as he snuck down to his room to get dressed.  Now, to figure out what the _hell_ was going on here.    He meandered back up to the kitchen, where a mohawked teenager was...getting chemistry tutoring from JARVIS?  Complete with 3D holographic models floating above the kitchen counter?  He rubbed his eyes and blinked furiously, but nope, it was still there.

“What did I _smoke_ last night?”

The kid laughed and Jarvis was audibly amused as he answered.  “Nothing.  Your larger half simply expressed a new-found interest in Broadway.  Additionally, Noah and his companion arrived at the tower shortly before you did.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.  “And Noah is...who, exactly?  I mean, not that I’m discouraging you from community service, Jarvis, but I didn’t think tutoring was your forte.”

Mohawk waved.  “Mr. Stark’s apparently my bio-dad, I just found out.  And of course, he expects me to be some kind of genius, if not in robotics then in science or math or some shit, and I took naps through pretty much every math class in high school.   Somebody called before he could pull me down to any labs, so I’m trying to get the basics down before he remembers I’m here.  So I don’t completely embarrass myself.  Or get disowned for the second time in a week.”  He sighed and stared dejectedly at his scratch paper.  

Bruce poured himself a cup of tea, watching the young man work out an equation.  That look of stubborn determination...well.   He could definitely see the resemblance.  “Well, how far along are you?”

Noah shrugged, but Jarvis illuminated a list of topics at the corner of the topic.  “I decided that rote memorization was unnecessary at this point, as I will be available to assist, but we’ve covered the concepts and necessary equations.  He’s doing quite well, actually.”  

Bruce gaped.  “Jarvis, that’s...what, two semesters of general and almost a year’s worth of O-Chem?  In one night?”

“Five hours and change, actually.”  Noah spoke up, clearing his tablet with a shake.  “and this stuff isn’t _hard_ ; I just never learned it before.”

The older man raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea before responding.  “Oh, but it is.  I’ve had undergrads crying in my office after fourteen weeks of class because they still can’t comprehend what you’ve picked up in one night.  Granted, I taught intro-level physics, but my students all had to take chem as well.  And...that professor didn’t hold office hours, but I digress.  Once you’re done there, why don’t you come down to the lab?  We can work out something to prevent a paternity suit, resume your tutoring another day.  You know what Tony was thinking of working on with you?”

“Emergency pants.”

Bruce snorted.  “Oh, that one’s easy.   _You_ could handle that, with trial and error and enough time, but I have a few experimental polymers that might do the trick, if we tweak them a little.  I’ll explain the concepts as you go.”  He downed the last of his tea and started down the stairs, and it was only a moment before Noah started thundering down after him.  They didn’t really need more daddy issues around the Tower, but Tony could sure do with some family, and if Jarvis approved...well.  He didn’t approve of many people in Tony’s life, so this kid ought to be good for him.  And the whole team.

 

Tony yawned and sat up, stretching the kinks out of his back.  Because body-slamming a demented robot into Macy's had its side effects.   _What I would do for a smoothie._  "Jarvis, lights to 80%, please."  He yawned once more before getting up and throwing on yesterday's jeans and a tank top that didn't look _too_ dirty before heading out.  He stopped by the gym, because that's where the team tended to congregate in the morning.  

In the middle of the wooden floor, Steve was swing dancing with...well, _that's_ what he forgot.  Steve was dancing with that Kurt kid, and Tony'd forgotten their guests completely.  This one, at least, seemed pretty self-sufficient.  As the next song came on, Natasha dragged Clint down from his perch on top of a weight machine and they joined in matching steps.  Snickering, Tony wandered off to find his kid.  

 _Yeah, A-plus parenting there, Stark.   But I_ did _warn him..._

He took the elevator down to the lab, figuring he could at least get some work done if the kid was still asleep, and Jarvis would tell him if Noah needed him for something.  But no sooner did he open the door to the lab, before he stopped cold to eavesdrop.  Bruce and Noah poked at the huge polymer Jarvis projected over the workbench, moving component molecules around as they argued about stability and flexibility and bond strength.  Sighing, Noah threw his head back to stare at the ceiling.  "Mmmmmm..." He said, clearing the screen before pulling things up.  "How about this?"

Bruce made that little "okay impressed now" sound, and asked Jarvis for a whole list of statistics.   _If_ this worked- and that was a big if- Tony would be a little impressed, himself.  Not bad for a kid just out of high school.  He decided to leave the three of them to their logistics until he found some coffee, because he really needed some to deal with this day.  

 

For his part, Kurt had an early night and woke up with the dawn, to meet an entire kitchen full of hot superheroes.  After stumbling through awkward introductions (thankfully aided by the A.I.) he followed them down to the ‘home gym’ - larger and brighter than any public one he’d ever seen - for a workout.  That quickly digressed to dancing when one of _Steve’s_ favorite songs came on, and and Kurt spent the next hour getting flung between partners as they took turns leading.  Ms. Romanoff “call me Natasha” insisted that Kurt lead, but spent the entire song correcting his technique.  Thor stepped on his toes a few times at first, but quickly got the hang of the steps.  

He was doing a loose foxtrot (with Captain America!) when Puck bounded in, followed by Doctor Banner (thankfully, now clothed).  Puck handed him a wire spool with a deep blue something wound on it.  

"Okay, Kurt, grab the end."  Puck said excitedly.

Kurt rolled his eyes but humored his friend, as Puck grabbed a spot three inches away and, keeping the rest on the spool, started stepping back.  Further, and further, and, "Surely this is going to snap and hit me in the face."   Kurt said.  It just _didn't stop._

"I don't think so!"  Puck smiled, now across the kitchen.  "Okay, reeling in, now.  I'll have the robots stress-test it, but I can say that this?  Is a success."

Kurt grabbed the spool out of Puck's hand and unwound a little more, inspecting it under the bright lights.  "What _is_ this stuff?  Where did you find it?"

"Um, I kind of invented it?"  He ran a hand through his mohawk.   "It doesn't have a name yet.  If we made a sheet of this, you think you could sew something out of it?"  

Kurt rubbed the strand between his fingers, saying absently, "No, don't make sheets, not of a polymer like this, you wouldn't have any flexibility or breathability, and those are important if you're making something to wear.  If you were making a space bag, you know, for sweaters or whatever, you'd want it airtight from thin sheets of this, but for clothing, you want a weave.  Make the threads very fine, of course, for the right texture, and-"

Puck interrupted.  "How about you come to the lab with me?  I know jack shit about weaving and sewing, but you're the fashion dude."

Kurt rolled his eyes.  "This isn't exactly Saville, Puckerman."

"Oh, come on.  The most I could make is a sack with armholes for a dress.  You'd make it look good, and not be all plasticky or whatever.  Make it feel good, too.  Your buddy can't run around naked _all_ the time, you know."

"Fine, okay."  He stood up and pushed his chair in, starting for the elevator.  "Jarvis, how thin can can that thread go while retaining its strength?"

"Approximately half its current diameter."  

"Great.  Do we have the materials to make lots of it?  That diameter, and some more of this width?  And I don't suppose Mr. Stark has a loom around here?"  Kurt glanced around the lab.

"We have the necessary materials, Mr. Hummel, though the process is not automated yet, Mr. Puckerman could continue producing it by hand."  

"Produce _what_ by hand?"  Tony interrupted, striding up to them.  "Ooh, is that the polymer Bruce was talking about?"  He took it from Kurt.  "Oh, yeah, something this simple?  Give me ten minutes and I can get a system going for you."

 

Two hours later, a small machine was pulling thread out from the molten gunk Puck poured in, while another wound the cooled thread onto spools.  Kurt's new loom beeped at him happily and popped out a small sheet of fabric, and Kurt ran his hand down it.  "Oh, that's much softer, and it'll flow better.  Weaver, can you make three yards of that?"   The machine beeped again as Dummy replaced one of the spools of thread.  

Another two hours after that, and Doctor Banner emerged from the lab's bathroom in a pair of loose boxers and a tank top.  "Okay, they feel fine like this.  Not as rubbery as I expected, from spandex on crack."

Kurt scoffed.  "Oh, I can do so much better than _rubbery._  What I'm worried about is pinching, chafing, and/or tearing when your greener side comes out.  So, get.  To the gym.  We need those stress tested _now,_ not finding out they annoy the big guy when you're in the middle of a battle."  He tapped his foot expectantly at the door to the elevator, and Bruce shrugged helplessly in Tony's direction before following the young man as he expounded upon the _cut_ and _fit_ and _styling_ to an increasingly-perplexed looking Bruce.

Tony, for his part, waited until the door was closed before he started laughing.  Once he caught his breath, leaning over the counter, he asked, "So, I take it Kurt likes fashion?"

Noah chuckled.  "Uh, _yeah._  He's been sewing his own crap for years 'cause you can't exactly get designer in Lima, Ohio, especially not on his budget."

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Noah explained.  "His dad's a mechanic."

"Interesting."  Tony tapped his fingers on the counter before pushing himself up and bounding over to his workbench.  Too much silence.  "Want to see the suit?"

“That would be _awesome_.”  The kid grinned, and Tony thought maybe this whole ‘surprise kid’ thing wouldn’t be so bad, after all.  

 

All in all, the Pants made a _fantastic_ icebreaker, Kurt surmised, smugly observing Hulk bound around the gym.  Puck was talking intently with his bio-dad about their next project- something to do with Doombots- and he’d lost most of that on-edge nervousness he’d had the first few days.  Like he was always a second from breaking down.  Not that they’d actually _talked_ about the fact that Puck and Mr. Stark were both ridiculously lonely and wanting family and weren’t likely to give each other up, but it was pretty obvious.  They spent the rest of the evening testing the pants and taking notes on possible commercial applications, which Miss Potts said the SI R &D people would be taking care of.

But he was at loose ends.  Puck- or _Noah_ as he was apparently called now- was busy cramming some...really complicated math-involving subject into his head, with the assistance of JARVIS.  The Avengers took off this morning for Hell’s Kitchen, where a mutated slime mold was _very slowly_ decomposing all the sidewalks...and street signs, and everything else.  And growing by the hour.

And Kurt was bored.  He was flipping channels when Pepper Potts came in (impeccably dressed) and smiled at him.  “Hello, there!  Kurt, was it?  I’m sorry, Tony seems to have forgotten how to care for his houseguests, or at least take care of them.  Did you have any concrete plans for your time in the City?  No one said, and JARVIS only said you were here for moral support.”

Kurt shrugged sheepishly.  “Not really?  I mean, it would be great to find a job or something so I don’t have to go _back_ to Lima when-” He waved his hand, “all this is done, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.  I...didn’t really graduate high school with any life skills.  At all.  Apart from working as a mechanic in my dad’s shop, which isn’t really what I want to do with my life.  And I only applied to one college, at which I got beat out by a _unique_ classmate of mine who choked on her audition then stalked and bullied the admissions rep into giving her a second chance.  So...not really a useful experience.”

  


Pepper blinked a few times. Small town Ohio, dear _God._  Okay.  She smiled reassuringly at the young man before her.  “How about you work for me ‘till you get sick of Tony, I’ll take some time this weekend to help you put together a resume, and then you’ll have some more job experience and a solid letter of reference when you go searching for the kind of job you _actually_ want.”  Anyone who could stand up to Tony and didn’t blink an eye at the Hulk would at least _survive_ the insanity of being Tony Stark’s P.A.

Kurt gave her a suspicious look.  “Work for you doing _what?”_  

She sat on the edge of the couch facing Kurt.  “Since he made me CEO, Tony hasn’t been able to keep a personal assistant.  Natasha lasted the longest, but considering that she was a spy for SHIELD at the time and had to tranquilize him, it’s not particularly a fair comparison.  You wouldn’t have to babysit- between his boyfriend and Jarvis, they make sure he eats and sleeps on a regular basis.  SI business has its own fleet of secretaries, for the most part, but I need someone to make sure he’s at meetings on time and properly attired, drop off the dry cleaning, sort through the fan mail, that sort of thing.

“One, who’s the boyfriend, and two, what happened to the last one?  I don’t want to get eaten by alien supervillains or anything.”

Pepper smiled.  “Oh, no, the last five quit when Tony flirted with them.  Never mind that I stopped being his PA before we ever slept together and that his current S.O. is sometimes the Hulk…”

Kurt smiled.  “That _would_ be a convincing argument for monogamy.”

“And the fact that they can talk about nuclear physics in bed together.”

“No one else can keep up, much less compete?”

Pepper laughed.  “JARVIS can, but he’s a special case.”

Kurt stood up and smoothed his lapels.  “Where should I start?”

“If I may interject,”  JARVIS cut in, “The mailroom’s overflowing at the moment, as no one’s been opening Sir’s personal correspondence since Miss Arrenburger quit six days ago.”

“Sounds like a plan.  JARVIS, if you could show young Mister Hummel the way?  I’ll get his paperwork sorted out.”  Pepper stood as well, shaking Kurt’s hand.

“Pulling up the standard forms on your computer now.”

  


When Puck ambled into the kitchen after another all-nighter with Tony, the only person there was Steve.  (Who reminded him of Finn so much it hurt, sometimes.  All tall and _so_ earnest.)  The older man smiled at him over a bowl of oatmeal as Puck refilled his coffee mug.  Again.

He took a gulp.    _Much_ better.  Cradling the warm mug in his hands, he smiled back across the table.  "Hey, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

Steve shrugged, flipping a page in his book. "Try the gym.  I think Natasha and Clint were talking about swords or something, earlier."

 _Yep, that's Kurt._  "Thanks, man."  He took off towards the stairs.

Sure enough, he heard the sound of clashing blades before he even rounded the corner into the gym.  Kurt and Black Widow turned in a slow circle, shoes shuffling forwards and back as they parried, bickering in what sounded like French.  Across the gym, Hawkeye leaned on a barre behind him, watching with a smirk.  By the time Noah crossed to join him, it wasn't any easier to see who was winning.

"She's going easy on him, right?"

The agent laughed.  "Not so much.  Was at first, but your friend's got some fight in him.  Nearly had her backed into a corner before she stopped playing around.  Of course, this isn't 'Tasha's weapon of choice, but still.  Impressive for no training."

Puck stared at the swords, at Kurt's muscular arms (when did those happen?) and slim back and the way his thighs flexed as he moved lighting-fast across the floor.  "Yeah.  Impressive."

Clint laughed at him.   "Oh _, I_ see how it is.  He know you're interested?"

"Fuck, no, and I'm not telling him."  Puck shook his head.  "I'm not his type, he just broke up with his boyfriend, and he still thinks I'm straight."

Clint looked skeptical.  "Judging from the creative invectives he's been calling Bland in five different languages, it seems more like he was the exception that proved the rule.  And that mourning period is definitely over.  Seriously, kid, you might've had the time for wimping out in Bumfuck, Ohio, but this is New York.  He got three numbers just going grocery shopping with Steve yesterday.  And probably would've gotten more if his wingman wasn't Captain Freaking America.  You don't act fast, he might start calling some of them."  Clint pushed off the wall.  "Think about it.  And good luck."  He launched himself at the oversized jungle gym and swung effortlessly towards his loft near the ceiling,  A minute later, NERF darts started pelting the fighting pair on the gym floor, and Puck ducked out of the gym before he became a target, laughing all the way.  

  


She found Kurt in a half-lit conference room surrounded by brightly-colored bins full of mail.  A mountain of empty USPS crates and bags occupied the far corner of the room, and a Beatles song played quietly from the room’s speakers.  As she watched, a blushing Kurt stuffed a letter back into its envelope and threw it into the blue bin.  

“What’s that one?”  Pepper asked, stepping further into the room.

He looked up.  “Oh, um, blue letters, like...blue movies?”  He shrugged sheepishly.  “Red ones are angry, yellow bin is happy harmless fanmail, mostly from kids, green is business propositions, white is invitations to thing, clear is everything else.  Most of it junk, but I couldn’t be too sure.“

“Interesting system.  Started on replies yet?”  She asked, taking a seat and pulling the blue bin towards her, fishing out the top letter.  She could see why Kurt was blushing, now.  

“Oh, God, no.  I wanted to sort them out, so I could handle all the standard responses at once-”

“Jarvis, can you put my templates…?”

“I’ve granted access over the shared server, Miss Potts.”

“Thank you.  “  Kurt said.  “And I’m leaving the angry, threatening, and/or stalker-levels of pornography for your security team.  They can sort out which ones are truly dangerous far more easily than I can.”

“Smart kid.  We have them all scanned for biohazards and weapons before they make it inside, but Tony gets too much mail for the security team to sort through every piece of it individually.”

“Yes, that would be one problem.”  He looked down at the table for a second before taking a deep breath.  “May I speak frankly?”

“Of course”

“You’ve got a more widespread problem than a few threatening letters.  Overall, I’m seeing huge PR issues, both with these letters and what Jarvis has told me of the Avenger’s media presence.  Even the positive letters are confused, and misinformed.  There’s so much rumor going around that people don’t know who to trust, and so the crazies and the talking heads are controlling the narrative.  Glenn Becks’ calling you ‘true  American heroes,’, probably just for the Captain, and his so-called crazy theories are insanely close to accurate this time, if I’m reading Steve’s background correctly.  Daily Planet’s calling for reparations and/or blood for all the collateral damage, Colbert wants Captain America on his show, Stewart wants Tony back on, O’Reilly is calling for full disclosure of government backing and funding.  And everyone wants to know who to blame, and unless we give them something…” He trailed off, not sure of what to say.

“They’ll start calling for blood.”

Kurt nodded.  “Exactly.  So I suggest that we send those with media training and experience - Steve, Tony, Natasha - to do a series of short spots and interviews, local radio stations and Youtube channels.  Maybe a comics-related show for Steve and one of the self-defense focused blogs for Natasha?  Something tweetable, rebloggable, and focused on supporting the local entrepreneurs as they try to recover from the disaster.  Very focused interviews, with people we cherry-pick.”

Pepper nodded.  “As much as I hate to admit it, Tony is the best at media wrangling of any of them.  He just chooses not to _use_ that experience most days.  And Steve, well, he’s been around the media circuit before, but not in this century.  So easing him in with a friendly host is a good start.”  She made a mental note to look up into his background; figure out how he learned to handle P.R.  Maybe he was related to that Congressman from Ohio?  They had the same last name, but that normally didn’t mean anything.  

She nodded for Kurt to continue.  “What next?”

“Then, do a big event where we tell the story- our _censored_ version of the story, of course, so that we can control the dialogue.  Invite big names to that, but also a diverse selection of well-known local community leaders.   They’ll do most of the local work for us, if we reach out to them.  No one local is _actively_ hostile - they like SI, mostly ‘cause you got the power back on to the city right after the invasion.   That speech where the mayor said it would be 48 hours until the power got turned back on and Tony said he’d provide that 48 hours of energy to the essential city services, free of charge, from the new chain of arc reactors?  It’s still one of the most reblogged gifsets on Tumblr.”

When Pepper looked at him blankly, he explained.  “That means he’s internet famous, in a good way.  That’s good PR.  Anyway, after the big event we can send them back out for the big name interviews - Daily Show, Colbert, the _Times_ \- and more of the small names. An archery school in Ozone Park wants Hawkeye at their next competition, and St. Joseph’s for the Deaf wants him for a keynote.  Um…” He dug out an invitation.  “Colombia’s thrilled that Dr. Banner’s come out of retirement, and won’t he please come teach as a visiting scholar, if he’s not prepared to be full time?   Something about quantum mechanics and a senior seminar on scientific ethics, yada yada, weed out any annoying underclassmen, don’t worry we have good insurance on all the science buildings….I think it’s a perfect opportunity.”

Pepper gave him an assessing look, and the kid gulped.  Probably wasn’t fair to use the Board Meeting Look on a teenager.  She set down the letter in her hand and said, “I think there are a lot of good opportunities here, and I like your strategy.  Choose the invitations for both waves of publicity and set up a timeline; I’ll get the team to agree.  What were you thinking of for the big event?  A press release?”

Kurt shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I wish we could just do a broadway musical, because that’s like, ultra-New York, relatable, and would definitely get attention.”

Pepper laughed.  Then stopped.  Considered it.  Raised an eyebrow.  “You know…”

 

(Writing the musical, with Puck helping write the music, was equally the most fun and the most stressful experience Kurt had ever had.  Probably because he wrote the entire thing in less than 72 hours.   Miss Potts handled logistics with a terrifying efficiency and somehow convinced the Avengers that it was in their best interests to comply.  After that, it was just rehearsals and details and finding a convincing Thor, who was apparently back home in _another dimension,_ how was this his life?, and calling Finn at three in the morning to avert panic.)

  


A month of chaos later, Kurt was on the stage.  The crowd loved the first act and looked encouraging through the first verse of _Loki’s Theme_ , as Kurt danced around the stage.  He was having a blast, singing-

 _I’m the greatest villain_  
Midgard has ever seen  
there’s no one smarter, eviler or more attractive than me

_Look out, New York!_

_I’m Loki!_

-when the rear doors of the theater opened with a boom, and Doctor Doom strode forward.

“How dare you pronounce your greatness, you immature villain of minor intent!   _I_ am the greatest villain in New York City, in fact, of this world!  And you will die for your impudence!”  And then he was firing a glowing purple blaster at Kurt, who ducked just as Doctor Banner jumped in front of him.  The Hulk looked down at the singed tatters of Bruce’s costume, and growled, grabbing Doctor Doom by the neck.  “You don’t hurt Music Boy.  Music Boy is Hulk’s friend.”  He snatched the blaster away and crumpled it in a large green fist as Kurt laughed.  

 

Kurt stood up the rest of the way and looked up to where Doom swung slowly in Hulk’s grip.  “You _actually_ thought that I was Loki?  Even if I was tall enough, did you actually think that the Avengers, SHIELD, or New York in general would be insane enough to release a power-hungry Asgardian who just destroyed half the city for a _musical number?_  Were you dropped on the head as a child, or are you just that stupid?  I’m an _actor,_ you dolt, and _you_ just strode onto a Broadway stage to attack someone who had five Avengers waiting in the wings.  And the Police Chief sitting in the front row.  On that note, can someone arrest this idiot before my good friend the Hulk loses his patience?  I’d hate for this man to get smashed before he makes it to prison.”  He turned to the uniformed SHIELD agents sitting in the aisle seats.

Within seconds, Doom was handcuffed and loudly protesting his arrest as they forced him up the stairs towards the exit.  Kurt turned to the Hulk, who looked almost...sad.

“Music Boy gets music-al number?”

Kurt looked up.  “Well, you see, we’re telling the story of the Battle of New York through song, so I get Loki’s song, and the Avengers get some songs, and some people who totally aren’t SHIELD agents but pretend to be are doing _The Dance of the Helicarrier._ ”  

The frown got bigger, and Hulk sat (carefully) on the edge of the stage. “Hulk doesn’t get a musical number?”

“Would you _like_ a musical number, Hulk?”  Kurt asked, carefully.

Hulk nodded slowly, pouting.  

“Well, then.”  He turned to the audience.  “I think the big guy here deserves a musical number for saving me, give the rest of the Avengers time to get back for the second act.  What do you say?”

While applause filled the room, Kurt whispered in Hulk’s ear.  And hopped off the stage to sit at the piano, signalling to his...friend.  His big, green, overprotective, _Wicked-_ loving friend, who started to sing.

 

_It’s not that easy being green_

 

By the time Hulk finished his (surprisingly good) rendition of Kermit’s song, the other Avengers and SHIELD agents were back from doing...whatever with Doctor Doom, and it was time for the ‘invading aliens’ to come out (on skateboards and bicycles and three swinging in from the ceiling) and start destroying the New York set as one by one the Avengers joined in for the grand finale (ridiculously long) fight/dance song.  Kurt slipped backstage for his costume change in time for his ‘defeat’, falling to his knees on the stage as the spotlight focused on him with a swell of music before going dark.  

  


Kurt was backstage, surrounded by people congratulating him.  Important-looking people.  Cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, he chatted with one reporter after another.  It might have been a publicity stunt off-Broadway, but it was still a musical penned and co-starring an 18-year-old nobody from Lima, Ohio, so everyone wanted a word.  Finally, Noah got through the crowd to Kurt, sweeping him up in a hug, careful not to crush the rose he carried in one hand before he could hand it to a beaming Kurt.  

“You were amazing up there.  Everyone loved it.  Really.”  He leaned in close to whisper. “Imagine how jealous Rachel is right now.”

Kurt laughed.  The crowd shifted, and Kurt put a hand on Noah’s shoulder to keep his balance.  “Oh, positively seething, I’m sure.  You want to help me escape this mob?  I bet Tony’s got a limo waiting.”  

Noah grinned.  “Definitely.”  He took Kurt’s hand, shouldering his way through the crowd and pulling Kurt along behind him, through the double doors and down the sidewalk and into the limo.  Kurt kept up a monologue about _everything_ on the ride home, and Noah just held on- he was pretty sure the other boy didn’t even notice.  When they got back to the tower, Noah led him upstairs and to his room, stopping by the door.   He cupped Kurt’s face with his free hand and kissed him - slowly, gently - and said, “Goodnight, Kurt.  Congratulations.”  Letting go (finally, reluctantly) he walked down the hall to his room and slipped inside, collapsing on the bed.

And then he hyperventilated.

“I can’t believe I just did that.  Did I just do that?”

Jarvis sounded positively _smug_ as he confirmed, “Oh, yes, Noah, you did.”

“He’s going to kill me.”

Noah’s door opened with a bang.  “Noah Puckerman, what the _hell_ was that?!  You don’t just, just _kiss and run._  That is _not_ a good joke, you asshole!”

He sat up in a flash, blinking the stars away.  “Hey, hey, not a joke!”

Kurt crossed his arms and gave him The Eyebrow.  “Am I supposed to just consider that a proposition?  That’s the worst…” His face darkened, then contorted strangely, and he laughed.  “Okay, fine, that’s actually one of the better propositions I’ve ever had, as it lacked both the shouting and the dead animals.  But _still,_ you _have_ to explain.”

Noah shrugged.  “What’s there to explain?  I have a thing for you, is that so hard to believe?”

“You’re not even _gay,_ last time I checked.”  

He shrugged.  Again.  “No, but I’m bi, and even once I figured it out I was pretty much Narnian when we were in Lima ‘cause, well…”

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “Because it’s Lima, Ohio, and the closet was safer.  But you don’t mean it.”  

Noah stood up and picked Kurt’s hand up.  “Open your eyes for me.”  When he complied, Puck continued.  “Kurt E. Hummel, I am _totally_ into you.  You’re hot and funny and smart and make me smile and followed me to New York City with pretty much no plan and you’re one of my best friends, Kurt.  And I would _really_ like it if you’d give me a chance.”

“Really?”  

The insecurity in Kurt’s voice made him want to _murder_ Anderson . Or maybe just humiliate him a little.  “Really truly.”

Kurt worried his lower lip, looking conflicted for a minute before proclaiming, “Oh, what the hell,” and taking Puck’s face in both hands, kissing him smoothly, not giving him much choice but to wrap his arms around Kurt’s back and kiss him back as they stumbled backwards towards his bed, giggling intermittently as they would trip over piles of clothes or their own feet.  He fell backwards onto the bed and absently noticed the door closing of its own volition, and then there wasn’t much to notice but _Kurt._  Kurt, who was stripping off his jacket with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, and who was pushing Puck down onto the bed to kiss him again, and again, and again.

  


He woke up slowly, moving absently into the warmth behind him.  As his brain came online, he figured out _why_ and _how_ there was someone else in the bed, but didn’t have the desire to move anytime soon.  “Jarvis?”  He asked softly.  “You there?”

The AI, thankfully, moderated his volume accordingly.  “I’m here.”

“There’s, um, I know you do security stuff and have cameras, like, everywhere, but there’s no way Da- no way Tony’s going to see that, right?”

Jarvis reassured him.  “I entered privacy mode when I felt it appropriate, lifesigns monitoring only, and didn’t return until you addressed me directly, Noah.  You have nothing to worry about.  Also, congratulations.  I believe I just won five thousand dollars off of Sir in the household pool.”

Puck chuckled, careful not to disturb the arm draped over his chest.  “What, he didn’t think we’d figure ourselves out?”

“Oh, no, he did.  His money was on next week, though.  So thank you.  Also, Doctor Banner won a back massage and a pedicure off of Miss Potts, who bet that Kurt would make the first move.”

Puck was struck with the sudden image of the Hulk in purple toenail polish.  “Thanks, JARVIS.  Can you make excuses for me this morning?  I don’t want to wake Kurt up.”  He yawned.

“Consider it done.”

With a yawn, Puck settled back into the pillow and back to sleep, taking hold of Kurt’s hand where it rested over his heart.  

  


Amazingly, nothing changed..much.  Kurt kept working for Pepper, doing paperwork and her shopping (which ranged from food to designer clothes) and hundreds of tiny errands which took him out into the city.  Noah kept doing research with his dad and catch-up education with Dr. Banner.  The only thing that really changed was that at breakfast, they’d hold hands, and they’d make out in random stairwells and broom closets, and they sat a little closer on the couch during movies.

Well, and then there was the sex, which continued to be lighthearted and sweet and the most outright _fun_ Kurt had ever had in a relationship.  They were both trying new things and giggling through the foibles instead of getting insecure or worrying about appearances or anything else.  Even the incident with the exploding lube bottle didn’t manage to kill the mood...even if it made the bed into a slip ‘n slide later.  Not even when Puck, then Kurt, slid off the bed in rapid succession.

He definitely didn’t have to schedule makeout sessions anymore.  

 

About a week after the musical, Kurt woke up alone to a note on his bedside table.

_Tony had an epiphany- we’re in the lab._

_Didn’t want to wake you._

_Meet you for lunch?_

_XO_

_-Puck_

 

He got dressed and pocketed the note with a smile, sauntering down to the kitchen.  This was Avengers Tower, so there wasn’t really ever a _walk of shame._  More like a Got Laid Parade.   _Every day this week_.  He sighed contentedly as he popped a bagel in the toaster.  

Agent Coulson let out an amused sound from where he sat at the bar, cradling his coffee cup.  “I take it the relationship’s off to a solid start, then?”

Kurt let out a sigh.  “Unbelievably good.  My last boyfriend was also my first boyfriend, so I didn’t really have any sort of baseline for healthy relationships.  Probably why I let him treat me like that for so long. Noah, though, he just astonishes me every day.”

“Still in the honeymoon period, then?”

Kurt laughed.  “I don’t think we got one of those.  We were enemies at school, then unlikely allies, and then friends, before ever becoming lovers.  So we didn’t have any unrealistic expectations coming in, and already know all the dirt.  Fight just as much as we used to, over the same stupid shit.  Only now…”  He grinned, and Agent Coulson filled in the blanks.

“Make-up sex?”  The older man asked bemusedly.  

“Yep!”  Kurt said, popping the ‘p’.  “I’m sorry, this is _so_ much TMI.  It’s just that I don’t really have anyone back home to share this with.  My dad...doesn’t approve of me having any kind of sex life.  At all.  He still treats me like a thirteen-year-old girl sometimes.”  He fished his burning-hot bagel out of the toaster, pulling the tub of cream cheese closer.

“I don’t mind.  I’m glad you feel at home here.”  The agent took another sip of his coffee.  “Having fun wrangling Stark?”  

Kurt rolled his eyes.  “The job would be great if Tony wasn’t so _obnoxious._  If he wasn’t Noah’s dad,  I’d want to smack him upside the head .  Or convince JARVIS to play nothing but Lady Gaga in his lab.  Miss Potts is pretty much my hero, though.”

Agent Coulson looked at him intently.  “Would you consider working for SHIELD?  This is a serious offer, Mr. Hummel, because we’ve seen your skills and talents in action, we’ve seen how you can handle yourself in a crisis, and we feel that with some further education and training you’d be a valuable asset.  Intern trainee position with weekends during the school year, full-time during summers and school breaks, until you finish your bachelor’s, full tuition reimbursement with a decent GPA.”

Kurt, about to take a bite, set the bagel back on his plate slowly.  “I - Me? - _SHIELD?_ ”  He took a deep breath.  “What would this job entail?”

  
  


Phil knew when one of his recruits was hooked.  Sure, he didn’t go for the conventional ones (that was Sitwell’s gig) but his were always exceptional.  And this one was definitely hooked.  “While you’re in school - and we can find you a spot at a school here in the City for the upcoming semester, since you don’t have one lined up - you’ll split your time between training, standard administrative intern work, and supervised training missions once you get to that level.  Nothing dangerous.  You’ll likely spend a lot of time liaising with the Avengers and Stark Industries so that I don’t have to .  Once you’re out of school, you can choose a focus within the agency, depending on your interests.  Though I warn you, Agent Romanoff might just snatch you up before any other department has a chance.  She’s taken a liking to you.”  And the young man, once properly trained, would be _stupendous_ at infiltration.  Between the knack for languages, acting skill, and natural talent at disguises, he’d breeze through that part of training.  

Kurt spent a moment staring at the counter before nodding, seemingly to himself.  “Okay, where do I sign, and when do I start?”

And he was in.  Much less work than Barton.

 

 

Of course, their story doesn’t end there.  Puck gets a little superhero training and a lot of science education, Finn comes to visit them at Stark tower before leaving for recruit training and ends up staying, instead.  Kurt thrives at the SHIELD academy and in University.  They all keep singing, finding a local garage band and dragging in passing gleeks from time to time.  Pepper Potts makes the cover of Time...twice.  Santana Lopez becomes Tony’s new P.A. once Kurt leaves for training.  She may or may not still have razors in her hair.  And their family is big, sometimes broken, sometimes green, always strange, and not really related at all, but it’s theirs, and that’s all that really matters.

 

/abrubt ending is abrupt.  

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who subscribed and stuck around: I am so, so, sorry, and you guys are the best. I love you all.
> 
> For new readers: be glad. be very glad. I left everyone else on a 20 month cliffhanger.
> 
>  
> 
> never posting a wip again

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny little ficlet epilogue in the comments [here](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/6370441): blaine and rachel reacting


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